Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3 (31 page)

She wouldn’t allow herself to use a prettier description for what he’d done, what she’d invited. She’d had the crazy notion that if she could get them in the same room, stripped of clothing and old resentments that maybe he’d give her a second chance.

Cutter wasn’t willing. He’d only taken what she’d offered. Without strings.

She couldn’t feel ashamed about what she’d allowed to happen because she’d needed so badly to touch him. However, now, she thought that maybe she was ready to let go.

The bell above the door chimed and she glanced over her shoulder then did a double-take because Cutter was striding through the door, his hard gaze pinning her like a butterfly to a display board.

Katie stiffened and cast a quick glance toward Win, who’d perked up in his chair and was following Cutter’s progress as he made his way toward her. No doubt even the old codger was aware of the rumors that surrounded her and Cutter’s demise as a couple. Now the old tattletale would have another story to add to his arsenal.

“We have to talk.”

Katie gave Cutter her back and swiped a table she’d already cleaned, determined to ignore the heat she felt prickle up and down her spine. “You already made your point,” she muttered. “There’s nothing left to discuss.”

“Let’s not do this here,” he said, laying his hand over hers and the soggy dishcloth.

She slipped her hand from underneath his and pressed it against her stomach before turning, then took a step backward because she hadn’t realized he’d come so close.

His thighs rubbed up against her, and she drew a deep breath, leaning back to prevent his chest from touching hers.

Too late. Her breasts were already aching, her nipples spiking against her bra. Thank God she wore an apron or he’d know her body was a lot happier than she was to see him here.

His fingers latched around her wrist, and he tugged her behind him, heading toward the kitchen door.

“Let go. This is getting old, Cutter. You can’t drag me around like a dog on a leash.”

“Bitch on a leash,” he murmured.

“What did you just say?”

He halted and faced her, standing so close again, his warm breaths washed over her face. “Dammit, Katie, don’t fight me. All I want to do is talk and I don’t want an audience.”

Maybe he’d come to apologize, but his thighs rubbed hers again, and she felt his cock, thickening under his jeans.

She glared, and then peeked around his shoulder at Ole Win, who was pretending to read his paper, but glancing their way over the top of his reading glasses. “In the kitchen then, but make this quick.”

He followed her, so close he bumped her backside when she paused to lift the counter ledge. The kitchen door swung and Cutter pushed her forward, toward the walk-in freezer in the back.

At least the cold would keep their clothes in place and the conversation short. She opened it and swung around as he followed her inside, ducking because he was taller than the ceiling height.

Frozen puffs of breath, short and fast, gave away her agitation. “Can we get this over with?”

Cutter raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Why’d you leave in such a hurry?”

Katie planted her hands on her hips. “We were through.”

“Maybe I wasn’t.”

“So sad,” she said, in a singsong tone.

His gaze narrowed. “You seein’ anyone?”

“You think I’d have let you do that if I was?” Then she had the grace to blush. She’d done just that to him

His eyelids lowered as he looked down her body. Then he came closer. “Just makin’ sure I’m not stepping on anyone else’s toes.”

“Why the hell should it matter to you? Gonna ask me on a date?” she said, raising her chin.

“Not exactly.” He bent over her, his hand slipped beneath her hair. His palm was warm against her cooling neck.

Katie lifted a hand to his chest to push him away, but he was as immoveable as solid rock.

“I’m thinking we should see each other,” he said, his sliding toward a sexy growl. “Every now and then.”

Her eyes widened. A lead weight settled in her middle, but lower, her body began a slow burn. “You’re saying we should fuck. Tell me, are you thinking you could just drop by whenever you’re horny?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about me? What about when I’m horny?”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “You wantin’ rights too?”

“I’d be stupid if I let it be all about you and your needs again.”

“Mad ’cause I didn’t finish it for you?”

She’d been devastated, but all those weepy moments were past. Anger flared, hot enough to melt the ice coating the walls. Did he honestly think she was such a slut she’d go for a proposition like this?

Then again, she’d never gotten what she wanted, sexually, from Cutter Standifer. When they’d dated, he’d been painfully remote. Even after they’d finally gotten naked. Today, he’d been ruthlessly cruel.

But if he wanted something from her now… Well, wasn’t she in a position to bargain for more? Did she want to risk her heart with him again? If he was even contemplating having an affair with her, did that mean that somewhere deep inside him, he still cared?

God, she was pathetic. The cruel twist of his mouth didn’t betray a single ounce of pity or affection. Still, her body reacted, predictably, to his presence.

Her pussy still ached from his earlier forceful thrusts. Unabated arousal had kept her edgy, angry. From just the memory of his invasion, her body had remained primed, her clit swollen, her nipples tight and hard. Even now, moisture seeped into her panties.

Could she do this? Begin a strictly sexual relationship without losing herself and her self-respect? She still wanted him. And didn’t she deserve pleasure for herself?

Katie lifted her chin and kept her gaze locked with his. “If I do this, you won’t be the only one getting what you want.”

Behind the scenes, beneath the covers...

Starstruck

© 2012 Ashleigh Raine

Hollywood Heat, Book 3

Jenna Byers approaches her first day as a background actor on
Sexy M.D.
with one goal in mind—impress the right people with her acting, make connections, and prove she’s a hard worker. Things go sideways when an up-close-and-personal encounter with the uber-sexy lead ends with Jenna flat on her butt, and she’s noticed for all the
wrong
reasons.

In all his years of acting, there’s only one thing Micah Watley hasn’t done: accidentally punch an extra in the face. Going against protocol, he hunts her down to apologize and discovers a rare phenomenon in the entertainment industry. A sweet, uncorrupted-by-Hollywood woman, whose smile grabs him by the heart—and other not-so-innocent body parts—and won’t let go.

Their attraction is instant and intense, and Micah finds himself desperate to believe the woman with the beautiful smile, hot body and naughty mind wants him, not the doors he could open for her. When the press catches on, twisting Jenna and Micah’s love story into a Hollywood scandal, they’re forced to fight for their happy ending—both on
and
off camera.

Warning: This book contains a hero and a heroine who don’t know a household surface they won’t get horizontal on. Sometimes vertical too. Counters, sinks, showers, sofas, washing machines, beds, walls…they’ve got all the angles covered.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Starstruck:

They walked together toward the front door. She considered asking where he wanted to go, what he wanted to do, but she didn’t want to pressure him. Honestly, even if all they did was walk out the door, say their goodbyes and then he turned left and she turned right, she’d be okay with that. Him showing up to see her tonight was awesome enough.

Okay, that was totally a lie. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet. “How was your—?”

“You were fantas—”

They laughed, and he held open the door for her to pass through. “You first,” he said. “I’m on my best behavior tonight. Holding doors rather than knocking you over. Is it working?”

She gave him a considering look, murmured, “Hmm…” and nodded. “Although sometimes good behavior’s overrated.”

“That, I can work with,” he said softly as she eased past. When she stepped outside, the cool night breeze washed over her heated face. She wasn’t blushing though—at least she didn’t think she was. This all-over warmth could be one hundred percent attributed to Micah.

Hat shading his eyes, he held the door for another exiting couple, and then walked to her side. “Where are you parked?” he asked.

“Behind the building.”

“Me too.” They followed the sidewalk around to the back of Stars.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they crossed into the parking lot. The cap kept most of his face in shadow, but the streetlight highlighted his jaw, and she had the absurd desire to reach out and feel the stubble there shining golden in the light.
Down, girl.
Instead, she fiddled with the length of purse strap hanging from her shoulder and tucked her other hand into her pocket. “Did you have a good dinner?” There, that was polite, hands-to-herself conversation. Go her!

“Dinner was good. But the entertainment,
that
was fantastic.
You
were fantastic.”

Okay, now she was blushing. And beaming. And really wanting to throw her arms around him. She stopped walking and faced him, although her hands stayed firmly at her sides. Tackling him in a parking lot would probably be considered bad form.

“Thank you.” Her mother would be proud that even when starstruck, Jenna remembered her manners.

“So if I come back on my birthday, will you sing to me too?” He had the devil in his eyes, and his mouth was quirked up at the corners. Two could play at the teasing game.

Channeling Marilyn in expression and voice, she purred, “Oh, you like Marilyn?”

He stepped closer, so close she could see herself in his eyes, feel his breath brush her cheek as he said, “No. I like
you
.”

And then she couldn’t see anymore, she could only feel, because her eyes were closed and his mouth was on hers, and they were kissing. The softest pressure of his lips, not demanding, just sharing. Touches. Breaths.

And God, this man knew how to kiss. Not only with his mouth, but with his whole body. One of his hands came up to cradle her head, tangling in her hair, fingertips stroking along her neck. His other hand cupped her hip, his thumb sweeping back and forth. Even through the cotton she felt that caress, and she wished her shirt would ride up a few inches so he’d graze bare flesh.

Finally giving herself permission to touch, she lifted her hands to rest on his waist. He was so warm, his body tight and strong beneath her palms.

He pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers, their panted exhales mingling in the small space between their lips. He smoothed his hands over her back, along her shoulders and down her arms.

“Can I see you again?” he asked as he tangled their fingers together.

“Will there be more kissing involved?”

He huffed out a broken laugh and brushed his lips over hers. “Yeah, I can pretty much guarantee that.”

“Well then. I think we should make plans to meet.” This time she closed the distance between them and pressed their mouths together. “And soon.”

A sound between a moan and a sigh rumbled from his throat. “Not soon enough. My next three days are gonna be hell. Long shooting days. I’m in almost every scene. What about Saturday?”

“I work an early shift, but I’ll be out by two.”

“How about dinner that night?”

“I’d like that.”

Lifting their clasped hands, he kissed the back of hers. “Me too.”

It was a good thing they were holding hands, because Jenna still had that itch to touch him…everywhere. The limited tactile taste had only whetted her appetite. She
needed
to stroke his stubble-rough jaw, run her fingers through the hair flattened to his scalp… “What happened to your hat?”

His shoulders came up in a cute shrug. “Stuffed it in the back of my pants.”

“Real smooth.” Jenna chuckled. “And it’s a good thing, too, because I’ve already proven I might not duck in time.”

“Well, I am still on my best behavior.” Micah winked as he put the hat back in place. “Can I walk you to your car?”

“Sure.” She was tempted to prolong the evening by doing laps around the parking lot, but considering it would probably make her look a little crazy and a lot desperate, she took a few steps and stopped in front of her dingy, banged-up Sentra. “This is mine.” She unlocked her car and tossed her purse on the passenger seat. “So, Saturday night then?”

“Most definitely. Wait, what’s your number?” He pulled his phone out and keyed in her number as she told him, then tucked it back in his pocket. She did the same, dipping into the car to grab her green-rhinestone-star-decorated cell from her purse, so she could input his number. “Can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

He grabbed the brim of his hat and twisted it to the side, before bringing his hands to her face and cupping her cheeks. Her eyes closed as his lips landed on hers for a sweet, beautiful, oh-too-short moment of bliss.

“Good night, Jenna.” He slowly retreated and drew his hat forward.

“Good night, Micah.” Still feeling the warmth of his hands on her cheeks, she sank into her car, barely noticing the duct tape holding the seat together scratching against her butt. Tonight had been awesome and called for loud music blasted from ancient speakers so she could sing at the top of her lungs. After she left the parking lot, though, since Micah was waiting only a few feet away, seeing her off.

She turned the key in the ignition, but her car only made its irritating fast clicking noise.

Well, she’d wanted to prolong the evening, but not by playing the damsel in distress. Fingers crossed, she turned the key again, but was met with the same lack of progress.

Crap.

She popped the hood release, got out and headed straight for the front.

“You need any help?” Micah asked, and even with the hat hiding his features, she could see his look of concern.